Absaroka Prison Blues
by Volie Velum
Summary: Walt and Vic continue to struggle to get past, over, or through the muck they created (in Season 4) so they can finally be together. Rated K for Language. Possible M rating in future chapters for adult situations.
1. Chapter 1

Absaroka Prison Blues

Chapter 1

 _Story begins where the Season 4 Finale ended at Walt's cabin. Enough time has elapsed, that the unavoidable confrontation between Walt the mystery intruder has ended and emergency services have arrived._

The paramedics perform their duties with the detached control so common among first responders. Another first responder, a blonde wearing a badge and a smirk displays a decidedly less detached and less controlled manner. As she speaks, her loathing is evident.

"So, I'm here. Am I running this thing or are you? I just need to know exactly what the boundaries are."

"Vic, you can take my statement."

"And hers?"

"Sure."

"I don't know if that's such a good idea, Sheriff."

"That so?"

"Well you know, we detectives, we ask a lot of questions."

Why _is_ Vic here? I specifically told Ruby to send Ferg, that Vic was off duty and was not to be bothered.

"So if I were to question yourself and your, uh, matronly friend? Or woman friend? What do you older people call it these days? Courting? Going steady? "

"Vic."

"Did she get pinned? Like you gave her your pin. You know. Like you stuck it to her."

"Vic." I know my tone is ineffective. I'm not passive by nature. This must be shock. Or perhaps I've reached that point where my bucket of crazy is full.

"If I'm asking the questions than I'll be the one hearing, you know your personal life stuff."

"Please Vic." Two words. Maybe I'm getting my grit back.

"And didn't you just get done telling me not three hours ago that your personal life is none of my business? Not that I would want to hear all the nitty gritty details of your SENIOR CITIZEN F**k Fest!"

What can I say? She's right. "Vic. Let's move on."

Did that sound like I wanted her to move on from lamenting our lost connection? Is that what I'm saying? If my words sounded like a reprimand she's not showing it. Why does she insist on trying to bait me?

"Guess you could say this is a classic case of coitus interruptus. "

I'm not about to reward her antics with a reaction. I didn't in the alley and I won't now.

"You know Walt that's Latin for an interruption in unlawful and/or distasteful sex acts."

"It is Latin and I think you know that's not what it means, Vic."

It's not so complicated, as far as, crime scenes go. I've worked enough over years to know many are larger, messier, and more taxing.

This isn't even the worse crime aborted in my home this year.

I wonder how many people have more than one home intrusion in the same year, or same month, for that matter. Maybe there's a support group for people like me. There must be a lot of good, honest, hard working folks who end up in vortex of continuous destruction. Through no fault of their own, of course. Destruction, that's a little over the top. Destruction would be preferred to whatever this is. Destruction suggests the calamity has ended.

This just doesn't seem to end.

Vic's questioning hasn't ended.

"…and your zipper is down. Can you tell me why it is exactly that in the time after you shot the alleged intruder and before paramedics arrived, you didn't zip up your jeans? Or were you just trying to preserve the evidence?"

The sound of tires on gravel interrupts Vic's rant. Another guest for the party. Boy Howdy.


	2. Chapter 2

Absaroka Prison Blues

Chapter 2

The Dodge charger pulls up behind Vic's truck. Ferg, my even tempered and unprejudiced deputy is a welcome sight. I wonder if I ran over and gave him a hug, if that'd bother him. Nope, not a good idea. Then Vic would grumble something about people getting special treatment.

Ferg quickly completes a cursory look inside and outside the cabin before going to work. Vic follows him around as she has me so many times over the years. Shadowing him and providing unsolicited commentary. As my youngest deputy, Ferg has come a long way. I watch has he easily shifts to detective mode processing the scene. He'll have to do the police report. 

_On 6/23/16 at approximately 1855 hours deputy on duty responded to radio dispatch reporting a 911 call at the location home of Sheriff Walt Longmire. Officer was also informed by dispatch that 911 caller indicated a there is a shooting victim at the scene. At approximately 1900 hours, same deputy was notified by dispatch that an off duty deputy also responded and was presently at the scene._

 _Upon arrival to the front entrance of the home, this deputy was briefed by the off duty deputy, Victoria Moretti. Moretti appeared excited or angry. This deputy observed Moretti shout, use expletives, stomp her foot on the driveway, all while swinging her arms out to her sides._

 _To the right of Deputy Moretti, was a male holding a shot gun. Male is known to this deputy as the homeowner, Sheriff Walt Longmire. Standing on the porch behind Sheriff Longmire this deputy observed a second female, unidentified, early 50's, wearing only a bra and panties. Sheriff Longmire stated the woman was his house guest a Dr. Donna Monaghan. This deputy further noted Sheriff Longmire wore only a pair of Wranglers, unbuttoned and unzipped leading this deputy to suspect the Sheriff was trying to get lucky with his house guest, Dr. Donna Monaghan._

 _It is noted that it has been a commonly held assumption in the community that for some time Sheriff Longmire has been involved in a romantic relationship with Deputy Moretti. This appears substantiated by the demeanor of Moretti on the scene._

 _This deputy overheard part of the conversation between Deputy Moretti and Dr. Donna Monaghan. Deputy Moretti was heard saying, "You're popular with the crazies, aren't you? You're just an attempt to satisfy Walt's MILF fantasy…nice lingerie, get those on blue light special at Kmart?" This deputy heard the Dr. Monaghan's replies to be "Don't call yourself crazy… obsession with references to sex is common in the sexually depraved or deprived…serious anger problem."_

 _This deputy walked closer to the Sheriff to assess for possible injury. This deputy asked Sheriff Longmire if he was hurt or needed assistance and the Sheriff nodded in the direction of Deputy Moretti and Dr. Donna Monaghan and responded, "Are you kidding me?"_

 _The Sheriff then covered his face with both hands and stated "Shoot me. Shoot me now." This deputy responded in the negative. Sheriff Longmire responded, "I could make it an order."_

 _It was assessed the Sheriff had no injuries, and this deputy asked the location of the shooting victim. The Sheriff answered, "Paramedics already got him and left." To the question of the identity of the shooting victim the Sheriff responded, "I don't know who he is or why he was breaking into my home, but I know his name. Lucky Bastardson."_

 _Upon hearing this comment, this deputy concluded that all three people at the scene were start raving mad so this deputy left to have a cold stiff drink._

"You're an a**hole, Walt!"

A slap to the back of my already aching head interrupts my daydream. Vic, of course.

"Did you really do that for HER?"

"What?"

"Did you really play the piano for that person, that person who doesn't know you?"

"Don't really have to know the player to enjoy the music."

"You just don't get it do you?"

I turn towards her as I stand. "Vic, it…no. No, I don't get it. What I do get is I need to give my statement. And after that, I want to put my place back together, clean up, clean myself up. And, I'm tired. Too tired to have to answer for something I shouldn't have to answer for."

I'm not angry. My tone isn't harsh or condescending. I never want to hurt her. She's important to me. The other she, Donna, I do think could be something to me, should we ever get time normal, uneventful time together. But Vic is important to me now. She's studying me like she's trying to figure out how she feels and if she wants to act on it.

"Vic, I don't want to fight. Are we okay?"

"Walt." Her tone is soft and I can see one tear forming under her right eye. "It's okay. Really. I get it. I mean I really, really get it."

I reach out to touch her shoulder and she steps back with her right foot. She looks vulnerable.

"Vic, please."

"Okay. Well, Ferg is here now, so I'll let him do his thing. You get some rest. Don't worry it's gonna be fine, just fine."

"Okay. Thanks, Vic."

Vic nods. I watch as she takes a few steps back then breaks into a near run to her truck. I feel sad. Sad, tired, and a little guilty.


	3. Chapter 3

Absaroka Prison Blues

Chapter 3

Case closed in just under three weeks. Yep, it took all of three excruciating weeks to see even a pinch of normal to return around here. I hesitated to wish for full blown normal on account of that's what got me in this mess in the first place. Thankfully my second time shooting a man in self defense in my own home didn't require a full blown FBI investigation. The Feds didn't need to step in at all. Ferg called the Wyoming Highway Patrol to come in and handle the inquiry. The Ferg continues to surprise me with his competence and initiative.

Once the pieces came together, I read the report and learned who the intruder was. It turns out the butler did it. Well, he wasn't exactly a butler in that a butler is the head domestic servant of a household. Charles Allen Rogers, the butler, worked at the same VA clinic as Donna up until a year ago. That's Dr. Donna Monaghan. Charles Allen Rogers or Chuck worked as a Readjustment Counseling Assistant at the VA mental health clinic. Can't say that I know how effective he was in helping veterans get services. That wasn't the focus of the highway patrol (HP) investigation. The HP did learn Chuck was effective at serving Dr. Donna. I didn't read the whole report as some of it was a bit sickening considering I was making out with this woman when Chuck invited himself over to my place that night.

Vic read, as she called it, the 'naughty bits' of the highway patrol report and teased me saying "you're better off without her Walt. From what I read, she was high maintenance. So much so, I'm not sure the HP is right that Chuck's motive was anger following Dr. Donna's breaking off their relationship. I think the thing that really stuck in his craw, was all that work to please her and no raise for him." I'd calmly barked at Vic that I didn't find her commentary that funny. Vic matched my calmness by shouting back that she didn't find my 'sorry ass butler joke' funny either. Eventually Vic and I we settled on a shared joke about Chuck Rogers of the 21st century.

So Chuck is securely locked away somewhere. I'm still one deputy short. Thankfully, Absaroka has been fairly calm for weeks. As for Donna, that was awkward. Donna's now my former girlfriend type person. She did the whole song and dance about being the victim of a delusional man. I let her know I knew enough from the results of the HP inquiry if it was a delusion to think Chuck was having a sexual relationship with the lady psychiatrist, then it was one of those rare contagious delusions. Apparently there was no shortage of VA coworkers and clients, as well as, neighbors of Donna who had shared the delusion she was involved with Chuck Rogers. I let her know we were done doing whatever it was she and I were doing and I did not see a reason for us to communicate. I was assertive and decisive. Granted it took me two weeks after reading the case report to end it. I have to give myself a break. She's the first woman I pursued, the first woman I asked out since my wife's untimely death. Coincidentally, Donna's also the first woman to lie to me and the first woman to be dumped by me since after Martha's death. It's like the Triple Crown of firsts for a widower.


	4. Chapter 4

Absaroka Prison Blues

Chapter 4

 **Scene: Walt is driving his Bronco with Vic as passenger. They're returning to the station after handling a domestic disturbance call. The atmosphere in the truck is tense. Walt periodically looks nervously over at Vic. Vic avoids eye contact resting her head on the passenger window. For once, it's Walt trying to start a conversation.**

"Anson was out of sorts today, wasn't he?"

No response.

"I was sure you were going to dress him down for that hair comment."

A barely audible mumble is all I get. That's par for the course lately.

"I appreciated your patience with him though. I know you have a low tolerance for stupid."

"He's not stupid. He's sad."

"How do you know that?"

"He told us. The whole thing about Mara belle."

"Mary Belle. Or was it Marianne?"

Vic gives me a dismissive wave. "Whatever her name is, she broke his heart. That makes a person sad. I wasn't going to step on his soul over a little comment about my hair color."

"I didn't realize she meant that much to him. You got to admit he doesn't exactly paint a pretty picture of her."

"Why should he?"

"You know Vic, I don't say it often enough, but you're more compassionate than people give you credit for."

"Actually Sheriff, I don't recall you saying that ever."

"Oh. Well I should have. You are."

Then only dead air. So, it's this again? Not talking to me. She won't even talk AT me anymore. There was a time I had to reprimand Vic to stop her chattering. Now, the silence hurts my ears.

I just got to stick to it. She'll come around one of these days. I hope.

"Cady said you two went up to Sheridan last Friday. You have a good time?"

Nothing.

"I thought Cady said something about a Blue Grass band? You like Blue Grass?"

Ugh! Talk, darn it.

"I didn't know you and Cady went out, do stuff, you know? That's fine. Of course, it's fine. I don't mean you or Cady need my permission to go out. I mean obviously Cady's a little to old to listen to her dad. She hardly listens to me at all lately. Say something Vic."

"I'm trying to respect you."

"Respect? By not talking to me?"

"You said my personal life is none of your business."

"Vic, I'm just making small talk, so."

"And you said your personal life is none of my business."

"I didn't mean this, this…you and Cady."

"Right. Cady and I. That would be both my personal business and your personal business."

"So?"

"So, it breaks both your rules. And, that's what I'm trying to respect."

She's so exasperating. "That's a bit too literal, so."

"Rules usually are."

"It's not a rule, per se. More of a guideline. Friends are going to share some…"

"Friends? Sheriff you made it very clear that you and I are not friends. You're the boss. I'm the employee."

"That's not what I said. I never said I wasn't your friend, Vic."

Her calmness is upsetting. And I think her silence is hurting my ears? When did things become so upside down?

"Vic. I still think of you as my friend. Course I probably never said that before either."

"It's okay Sheriff. You don't have to be conversational. And, you really don't have to be friendly. We're partners. As in cops, not anything else."

"I'm not talking just to talk. I think you know that's not something I do."

"It's all just a little much."

"What?"

"The kindness."

"I honestly don't know what's going on right now."

"What's going on is you think you owe me something, or that I'm fragile. You need to placate me or make sure I don't go off the deep end or something."

"No. That's not it. In fact, I think you should go off. Not the deep end, but something with more authenticity then this flawlessly polite act." That sounded a bit harsh.

"I can assure you it is not an act. I am trying to be a good employee, but that doesn't mean I need your reassurance. I do fine on my own."

"I don't doubt that. Only you're not on your own. I'm right here."

"You are?"

"Yes."

"Right here? Wow. I mean wow. I owe you an apology. I didn't know you were right here."

The sarcasm is beginning to surface. I want to respond, but I don't want her to shut down.

"Walt, I really don't know what to say to you. I'm working real hard at keeping it together but that's hard when you keep changing your mind. I can be your friend. I can't be your friend. We're close. We don't share our personal business. And now it's 'I consider you my friend.' What the hell, Walt? You shut me out!"

"YOU shut me OUT!"

Damn. I said it. Ugh, I really don't want to do this. I don't want to have this fight.


	5. Chapter 5

Absaroka Prison Blues

Chapter 5

 ** _What follows is the continuation of the conversation between Walt and Vic from Chapter 4._**

"I'm sorry what was that? I don't think I quite heard what you said, Sheriff."

"You heard me."

"So, you did just project your guilt onto me? Projection. Classic defense mechanism."

"And you're accepting responsibility for your actions?"

"What actions might that be?"

"Oh, I don't know. There's the not talking thing. Ignoring me. Ignoring a problem. Denial. Also a classic defense mechanism."

"One you also excel at."

"I wasn't done."

"Sorry."

"Then there's the placid compliance, never speaking up, never voicing an opinion all under the frame of adhering to the so called rules I gave all so you don't have to look at why you're really pulling away from me. That's rationalization. Then there's the usual suspects. Sarcasm. Biting remarks. The dramatic flourish. All great communication techniques for pushing people away."

"You would know."

"Maybe I do." I'm shouting and I won't apologize for it. "But, I didn't change who I was, acting like a different person causing people around me to wonder where they fit in or if they fit in you life anymore."

"I can't… I can't even believe you just said that. You think I'm not feeling the same way about your recent life changes? For God's sake Walt, you're dating someone or you were. I mean I know there was Lizzy, but you were more the hunted than the hunter. And why all of the sudden after all this time do you decide now you're ready to date? I mean you f**king waited to date until I was single. And you chose her! What the f**k?"

"You weren't single. You went from one relationship right into another."

"Says who?"

"Says you." She sure stopped cold. "Vic?"

"Yeah, um?"

She's about to confess something. Don't let it be she's moving in with Eamonn. Worse, don't let it be she's engaged.

"I, uh. I may have over stated the exact nature of the level of involvement with Eamonn and me."

"May have?"

"Yeah, I don't remember exactly what I said, something about me dating Eamonn."

"I believe it was 'Eamonn and I are in a relationship, a sexual relationship.'"

"Oh. You remember? Well, we are not in a relationship. And, we were not in a relationship then, when I said that. Funny thing, uh, never was a relationship. There was sex. But, just the once."

"And?" I mean if you're going to confess that you lied to me, seems you'd show a little remorse or at least explain yourself. What is she thinking? Is this one of those times when a woman thinks I should just know? 'If you really loved me you'd know why I did that.' Ugh. I hate that.

"Vic?"

"Uh huh."

"You don't have anything else to say? I have no tolerance for lies, especially from people I should be able to trust. Do trust."

"Don't you mean, did trust? If you trusted me then you would have told me the truth when I asked if you were seeing someone."

"I did."

"Wow. Okay? I thought we were confessing here?"

"I don't have anything to confess."

"You're an a**hole, you know that? Of course you have a confession. You lied, too. They may have been mostly lies of omission, but those are still lies. And it all goes back to the original point that you shut me out."

"We both did. That I can admit. But do you see how a person could think you were with Eamonn? I mean I am a detective. I observe. I collect facts, and then I form a theory."

"Yeah and so am I. But if you...if I…hell, if either of us would have just asked a few questions instead of relying only our observations then maybe we wouldn't be doing this! Oh. Wait. I DID ask questions!"

"Okay! You're the better detective. But you still ended up going in the wrong direction."

"What direction is that? Or rather, what would the correct direction be?"

THIS is the wrong direction. She's not listening. If you ask her she'd say I'm not listening. It's a tennis match, both of us hitting the ball back to the other side of the court for no gain other than the sport of it. And when the hell did I park? And when did we get back to town? It's a wonder we're not in a ditch with all the attention I was paying to the road the last ten, fifteen, four thousand minutes!

"Walt?"

She sounds so defeated. Me, too. "Vic, I didn't…well I wasn't trying to upset you. That's not what I want to do."

"Then or now?"

"Both."

"Same here."

"We're back."

"Back to what?"

"Uh, not what. Where. Here. The station."

"Oh."

It must be the first she looked at our surroundings.

"Okay Walt. So now what?"

"We go in."

"That's it. This is how you want to leave it?"

"This is where I usually park."

"So it is."

The implied double meaning of her words hits me. But, it's the truth isn't Longmire? You've shut down again. You're back home where you can put those feelings back in their spot and return to business as usual. But that's just self preservation. You don't start driving down the highway before you know the destination and purpose for the trip. Self preservation? That sounds familiar.


	6. Chapter 6

Absaroka Prison Blues

Chapter 6

"Hey Walt? You got a minute."

"Sure. Come on in, Vic." I've got more than a minute. If I'd known I'd be sitting here for four hours and not a single call, I'd have slept in. Of course, you got to be asleep to sleep in late. And, had I waited to come in there would have been a flood of calls.

"You sure it's okay?" she asks.

"Of course. What's on your mind?"

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."

That's her flirty, playful voice. And, she winked. And she smiled. Considering the unresolved argument we just had yesterday, she just couldn't be flirting with me.

"Sorry, Sheriff. Just teasing. I'll tell you mine. You know? I'll show you mine?"

"Teasing?" I ask as if I've never heard of such a thing.

"Anyway, I was wondering if you'd eaten yet today."

"Uh huh?"

"Lunch? Have you had lunch?"

"Nope."

"I was wondering if you wanted to have lunch, with me, that is?"

Still smiling. Still flirting. And now she's suggesting we share a meal together. This doesn't add up. I was an a**hole yesterday. I know because she told me I was.

"I understand if you don't want to, Walt. It's really okay."

"Uh? Well, I do eat lunch. I mean I could. Sure."

"Great. So the Busy Bee?"

"Sure." She looks happy.

"Order in? I'm fine with eating there, if you prefer. Or I could get it and bring it back. You have a preference?"

Vic's happy, flirting, inviting me to eat with her, and in a public location. My God! It's the first four signs of the Vic-ocalypse!

"Walt, you're giving me a complex here."

"Yes. Let's go to the Bee. What could go wrong?"

"Excuse me?"

"No, I mean what do we have to loose? Or, not loose?"

"Real smooth."

"I thought so." At least this feels better than any other interaction we've had since, well, since way too long ago.

WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

I see Dorothy at the counter spotting me as I spot her. First time to the Busy Bee in, gosh, days. More like I'm self conscious as this the first time Vic and I have walked into the Bee together in over two months. Hopefully Dorothy will be a bit more discrete than usual.

"Well looky here everyone! It's the King and Queen of Absaroka County! Howdy Walt. Howdy Vic."

Dorothy's loud announcement is exactly what I was hoping to avoid. I'm not so sure Vic's going to go through with this public outing if she thinks everyone's watching us as they gossip about the age old question, 'will they or won't they?' I'm not sure I want to stay, now that I think of it.

"I've got your usual table in the back, so just go make yourself at home and I'll be with you shortly."

Vic slides into the booth facing west and I take my spot facing east. Maybe we'll settle into our old pattern and this will work out just fine.

"I'm not getting what you get."

"Sorry?"

"I said I'm not getting what you get."

"Vic, you order anything you want."

"So you're giving me permission to order what I want?"

"I'm not telling you what to do or implying I have the right to. I'm just agreeing with you. Besides, I don't even know what I'm going to order."

"You're not going to order the usual?"

"No, I am."

"Then you know."

"Nope. That's the fun part. I never know what my usual is."

"Well, I'm not rolling the dice today."

I think I'll just take a gander at the menu. Best I keep myself somewhat distracted to avoid any possible escalation. She's not angry, I don't think. She just seems kind of defensive. Only she doesn't sound defensive, so I suppose she's not. Actually she sounds fairly upbeat. I'm not going to let it worry me that Vic appearing upbeat is the fifth sign of a coming Vic-ocalypse.

"How much longer are you going to hide behind that menu we both know you're not reading?"

"Do I have a time limit?"

"No. Take your time. And, I'm not telling you what to do or implying I have the right to. I'm just making fun of you."

I fold the menu as I respond, "That's not exactly it. I didn't say I was making fun of you."

"Lighten up, Walt. It's just lunch."

"You know lunch is still a relatively new invention. Ancient Romans believed eating more than one meal a day was gluttony. That one meal a day was mid day, but the term 'lunch' didn't exist. Indians approached food as eat when needed, rather than adhering to a strict pattern of ritualistic meals. "

"You think chocolate chip pancakes smothered with butter and maple syrup is a ritualistic meal?"

"Vic, I've seen you eat said pancakes, and yes, ritualistic is a fair description. Now, I'm teasing you."

"You don't have to do that."

"Do what?"

"Explain yourself. Saying you're not telling me what to do. Saying you're teasing. I know. It's not like we haven't seen each other in years, that we're strangers. We haven't eaten here in awhile. That's all."

That's all. Sure that's all that's changed between us except for a significant increase in tension, a wave of emotionally laden arguments, and our competing to see who can push the other way faster. I wish I had Vic's perspective. Though, I still don't buy that really is her perspective.

"Walt. Look at me."

"Uh huh?"

"I'm starting to get jealous."

Wow. That came out of left field. Now what?


	7. Chapter 7

Absaroka Prison Blues

Chapter 7

 **This chapter starts where chapter 6 left off with an awkward conversation at the Busy Bee.**

 **"Walt. Look at me."**

 **"Uh huh?"**

 **"I'm starting to get jealous."**

 **Wow. That came out of left field. Now what?**

 **AND NOW…..**

"I don't understand. You know I'm not with her."

"What are you talking about Walt?"

"You said you were jealous of her."

"Who would that 'her' be?"

"Donna? I mean I haven't had time to date anyone else."

"Oh. Oh my, no time? In that case, maybe we should just take the food back to the office. That way you can get right back to picking up those elderly babes shop on 'Senior Wednesdays' at the IGA. Well, that is, once you've had your marble sandwich."

"What?" She's starting to lose it.

"Marble sandwich. You know. Eat marbles cause you've lost all of yours."

"Ah. I see. I'm losing my mind?"

"Must be. Unless you can explain why we're talking about your love life all of the sudden."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Because you said you were jealous Vic."

"Jealous of your brain! Not that pathetic excuse for a girlfriend."

"Oh. I got that wrong."

"You said it not me. About time you realized she was a waste of your time."

Do I correct her? No. She knows I meant wrong about her jealous comment. She's baiting me by turning my words back on the subject of Donna. She's fuming about me bringing up Donna just to turn around and mention Donna herself. And, she's trying to stare me down. Let her. I'm not going to apologize for misunderstanding another of her ambiguous comments. I'll just watch her as she starts to feel guilty.

"Vic. I was wrong." Wow. That was maybe six seconds. "I think maybe we're both just a bit sensitive. We haven't had much of track record for civil conversations lately. And, I shouldn't have assumed you meant you were jealous of a person. It's a compliment really, that you were saying you're jealous of my immense intellect and captivating conversation." Add standard 1950's romantic film hero smile, and I believe I've won her over. She laughed. She is genuinely laughing!

WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

 **Walt and Vic's lunch was cut short by a call. They are on the scene walking through an alfalfa crop. The atmosphere between them is light and friendly.**

"Al the Alfalfa Farmer. Al. Al-fal-fa."

"Vic. That's the third time you've said that."

"Did I tell you Al has a gal?"

"Yep."

"Al's gal is named Sal."

"Uh huh."

"Did you know that Sal has a pen pal?"

"I doubt that."

"Her name is Val."

"Now you're just making stuff up."

"Sal's pen pal Val lives near the Eire Canal."

"Very clever rhyme, Vic."

"Shall we ask Al, Sal or Val to be our pal?

"That's enough, Charlotte Bronte."

"Is she the one who wrote Wuthering Heights?"

"No, that was the sister, Emily Bronte. Charlotte wrote Jane Eyre."

"Oh yeah. We had to read Wuthering Heights in high school lit. Didn't like it. Everyone was too moody."

"I think you'd like Charlotte better. ' _I am no bird; and no net ensnares me; I am a free human being with an independent will.'_ That's Charlotte Bronte _."_

"I like that. ' _a free human being with an independent will_ ' Yeah, that's me. And that's you."

"I suppose. Also, _'Life appears to me too short to be spent in nursing animosity, or registering wrongs.'_ "

"Pretty deep."

"Yep."

"Walt, are you trying to be deep."

"Nope." I have to smile. "Kind of funny. The incongruity of describing one's high class philosophical reflections with such common vernacular."

She puzzles me saying, "I am so over it."

"Over what?"

"Unnecessary big word usage."

"This is why I don't share my thoughts. I'm either being criticized for being too reserved or criticized for my intellectual prowess."

She looks over and arches one brow. "My goodness Sheriff Longmire. I just can't believe it. You are trying to take advantage of innocent little me. Bringing me out alone and talking about your sexual prowess."

I'm going to ignore that. Probably should have started Operation Planned Ignoring earlier. I probably should have started to stop listening when we pulled off the highway onto Al's farm and she asked what the 'green growy stuff' was in the fields on either side of the dirt road.

"Hey Walt. You thinking how I just got you again? You know my smart alecky prowess and all?"

"You know alfalfa is often cut and baled, a haystack, to market as livestock feed."

Hmm, seems she's ignoring me now. Right back at you.

"And don't think me ignoring you is you getting back at me."

I won't, not out loud anyway.


	8. Chapter 8

Absaroka Prison Blues

Chapter 8

 **Two weeks have passed since Walt and Vic lunched at the Bee. The Sheriff and his Deputy have been enjoying something of an unspoken truce.**

Vic was pacing in front of my desk as I continued to pretend to read whatever it was Ruby had handed me for my approval. Long ago I learned on matters of managing the office I trusted Ruby more than I trusted myself. And so, Vic continued to pace and turn the nonexistent wedding ring that used to grace her hand. Sometimes I prompt her to start and others I let her get there at her own pace. Vic has two main speeds of communication, so fast the words leave skid marks or with a period of silence as she considers if she really wants to expose herself.

Ruby came back in right after I signed the official paperwork and just as Vic spoke, "Walt, can we talk for a minute?"

And so, Vic and I headed down the stairs to respond to the call Ruby had just taken. We walked across the square in silence. I know Vic had a question for me. Her nonverbal alerted me that we were about to have a conversation we've had a thousand times. Vic had an agenda with me or for me. Friendly or not, I won't try to guess.

A couple of years ago, Vic campaigned for an employee suggestion box. She felt the Absaroka Sheriff's Department needed to 'join the modern age' and provide employees a safe way to express ideas or complaints while maintain their anonymity. The idea wasn't going to cost me much to implement. One wooden box and one key lock would ensure that said employees' comments about said employer remained private and confidential. Vic sold me on the idea when she said I'd only need to read the contents of the box once a quarter.

So, I placed the Absaroka Sheriff's Department Employee Suggestion Box right by the coffee machine where Vic told me I wanted to put it. That was January third. I believe it was two weeks, maybe not even two weeks later when I found the locked wooden box on my desk one morning. There was a note taped to the lid commanding my attention.

'READ THESE NOW!'

It wasn't the handwriting as much as the triple exclamation marks that led me to conclude this was the work of my Feisty Italian deputy. As expected one of the suggestions left in the box was to open the box once a month instead of once a quarter. Clever girl. For such a short time there were an impressive number of suggestions. What I learned from that experience was my employees A) had definite ideas, concerns, and irritations to share, and B) my employees didn't appear to need anonymity to express these thoughts.

As it was time for an employee meeting, as we hadn't had one in a year, I called them into my office. They watched as I placed the entire contents of the box into four separate piles. I explained I would be naming those who contributed his/her suggestions, though the content would remain private. I drew their attention to the pile of sticky notes giving up Ruby as the author. I then shared my suspicion that all notes starting with "If I was Sheriff I would…" were authored by Branch. Notes sporting exclamation points, curse words, or both most likely were Vic's contribution. As for Ferg, he signed his suggestions with 'Ferg'.

And now I've started the truck's engine and we are off.  
"Hey Walt. When we get back I'd like to talk to you for a minute."

"You can talk to me now."

"Nah, it can wait."

"Doesn't have to. It'll take a good ten minutes to get there."

"Is ten minutes enough time?"

Of course it isn't. Even when I immediately agree to one of Vic's proposals it takes another five to ten minutes of Vic explaining why it's so important not including the question and answer period. That's my favorite part, though. Vic is one of those folks who asks for input then proceeds to inform you what your worries are. Conveniently, she has the remedies to those worries. I find I am at ease before I knew what I thought or how I felt. It's a time saver.

"Uh. Yeah. Too much. Really."

We're walking side by side eyes on the truck, so I miss your characteristic facial expressions. It's the staccato tone in her voice that offered the first clue that Vic had something on her mind more consequential than a suggestion box.

Fifteen miles, two hours, and one missing cat named Marco Polo later and we're at the Hole-in-the-Wall Gang Gas-n-Go. Unfortunately, Vic's sullen mood has worsened. I knew when I told Mrs. Mrytle that the Absaroka Sheriff's Department took missing felines quiet seriously that that Vic would not appreciate my offer to search the property. She followed me begrudgingly. I tried to cheer her up. It seemed only right that as we covered the 20-acre property that we'd call out the cat by name. I let Vic assign the jobs of shouting shout 'Marco' and 'Polo'. And, I agreed to her small modification and we went searching for 30 minutes or so.

I doubt anyone heard us. I shouted, "Marco. Polo."

Vic followed with, "F**k. This."

It's disconcerting to see Vic so preoccupied. Haven't I made it clear many a time, that I'm here, that I want her to be able to share her burdens?

What burdens? Did something happen? Maybe she's struggling with bills. I'm worried how the trauma and resulting trial of Chance Gilbert has affected her. And then there's the suit against me and the focus on her or us. But, we've talked about both and she seemed to be getting along. Maybe she got some bad news, a death in the family, someone's ill, terminally ill. Vic is dying. Stop it Longmire. You're getting worked up over what? There's no reason to think Vic is ill. That's just fear talking. Except, she was sick not too long ago. She blamed the lox from the new bakery. What were her symptoms then? Did she ever say? She laid down in front of the fan in my office. Could be fever, exhaustion, dizziness, nausea. Well then, she's pregnant and not dying! Vic pregnant. Nah. Couldn't be. I need to get out of my head.

Could she be pregnant? No, Vic's divorced. Yep, and sleeping with or slept with Eammon. Vic would be on the pill. And Eammon's a responsible, young single man. He'd have condoms. Obviously, Vic would be careful. All that time married to Sean and she was never pregnant, as far as I know, and they were certainly sexually active. Vic made sure everyone knew just how much, how often, and how good her sex life was.

Did she go off the pill when Sean left? Martha couldn't tolerate the pill's side effects. Our contraception replacement was a bit reckless but we were married and hoping for a large family. Turns out a large family wasn't our destiny. That may have been best cause I wasn't the most dependable lover when it came to my part in not getting pregnant. But Vic is recently divorced, living in a trailer, well had been still living in her boss's daughter's spare bedroom when Eammon came around. Surely Vic hadn't gambled her future on a man following through with ….

"Are you going to pull out or what?"

Her question startled me. I wasn't thinking out loud, was I?

"What?"

"I said are you going to pull out? All you needed was the gas right? Let's get back on the road."

"Oh. Right."

"Why are you looking at me like I've got two heads? You sure you're okay to drive, Walt?"

"Are you?"

That sounded too harsh. H

"Excuse me?"

"Sorry Vic. I just meant are you feeling okay? I mean you're not sick are you? You would tell me if you were sick. I hope."

"Walt you are weirding me out over here. Can we just get back and have some lunch."

No, she couldn't be nauseous. She's been eating like a horse lately. Vic must have consumed four quarts of noodles yesterday. I never realized she had such a taste for noodles. Oh God. She IS pregnant!

"Vic. I want you to be completely honest with me. Will you do that?"

"Yes. You are losing it."

"Funny, not that. Vic, I hope you know I care and I wouldn't judge you. I'd be there for you whatever...you know…"

"WHY would you judge me?"

She's getting angry. Just ask the question before she goes on a tirade.

"Vic, are you pregnant?"

A brief pause and then, "I don't think you should be asking me that?"

"You are pregnant."

"I didn't say that."

"You did just now when you didn't say you that you aren't pregnant."

"F**k Walt! Just stop it."

" This isn't an attack Vic. I'm concerned, that's all."

"I am not YOUR concern."

"You are my ONLY concern."

"What does that mean!?"

My heart answers 'It means I love you and need to be sure you're okay.'

My mouth answers "Nothing. I mean it's fine. Just forget it."

She barks, "FINE!"

Yep, it's just fine, fine, fine. I'm in love with you and you are having another man's child.

Boy Howdy!

Or girl howdy?


End file.
